


Beautiful Words

by Sassyandsarcastic15



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AUs, Aesthetic words, Drarry, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Genderbend Drarry, M/M, drarry fluff, drarry oneshots, oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassyandsarcastic15/pseuds/Sassyandsarcastic15
Summary: Words are so unique and beautiful. And yet, there are so many that we don't know. Much in the same way there are so many untold possibilities.Drarry One-shots.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Kudos: 6





	1. Lionize

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm not claiming to. J.K. Rowling and her associated companies own Harry Potter. However, I do own the actual fanfic plot.
> 
> Verb- to treat (a person) as a celebrity.

"Don't fret darling, I'll get the door for you." Harry Potter was quick to get the door for his soulmate, ignoring the strange looks that he received. With his messy raven colored hair in a ponytail, he looked like what some would consider 'a troublesome punk'. The leather jacket and ripped black skinny jeans surely didn't help, although half of the mall shoppers were just bitchy Karens- they really didn't count. 

Draco Potter smiled softly at Harry's antics, clearly pleased. Draco loved him, with all of his nerdy theories about Doctor Who- "he's in love with him you know. Also, I think he's going to die in the next episode." Some were way more complex, to the point Draco zoned out, staring at the beautiful man that he was lucky to call his. He was so kind, and that was one of the few things that Draco loved about him. Harry treated Draco like he was a celebrity, and while Draco pretended not to enjoy it, he surely did. "Thank you Harbear." 

Harry smiled happily, moving onto the next door to hold open. "Come along dearest. I have so many big things to do today." 

"Such as?" Draco looked curiously up at his husband, standing up on his tiptoes to kiss Harry's cheek- why did Harry have to be so tall?

"Y'know, calling Ginny and congratulating her on her engagement, making sure that our kitten Snowball didn't break anything, and stop by the store. And possibly, if you're willing, you." Harry's arm snaked around Draco's waist, pulling him closer. "Come along dear, I called a limo."

"Why do we need a limo?" Draco sighed. Harry always treated him like a celebrity, but this was a bit far, even for Harry. Although Draco shouldn't underestimate Harry, considering that Harry had went out and bought a red carpet for him once- his mother had some questions, to say the least.

"Did I forget to mention that your father is throwing a ball that he expects us to attend?" Harry smirked at the woman who'd said something rather... hateful, seeing her gasp. "I really do think Lucius likes me." 

"Don't get an inflated ego," said Draco sweetly. "I know marrying me can do that to a bloke, but at least try to control yourself. You're simply scandalous." 

"As if I'm the one with the over inflated ego," cooed Harry. That statement was simply hilarious, considering that the Malfoy lineage was known for being cocky, arrogant, snobby, and having over inflated egos. Although Draco had become less arrogant and snobby (considering he married a tattoo artist that his parents weren't fond of- at first), he still had the over inflated ego problem. In Draco's eyes, he was simply the most stunning bloke that God ever made, with Harry coming in second place- Harry agreed with that statement. 

"Mister and Mister Potter, please, allow me to get the door," said the aging limo driver- Dobby, if Draco's memory was correct. His tan skin was wrinkled, more so than Draco ever remembered- given, it'd been a while since he'd last seen the kind man.

"They can't be brothers, unless the mother cheated. Can't you tell, one's white and the other's tan?" A woman stalked by, her hair cut into a bob. Dressed in a red polka dot shirt and shorts, she looked to be around roughly forty years old. The meanest scowl was resting on her face, which didn't make her look very attractive. 

"This is exactly why dad left you," said a girl that appeared to be her daughter. "And why I live with him."

In a matter of moments, both Draco and Harry were in the backseat of the limo. The windows, tinted incredibly dark, helped to keep out the sun's bright rays, which Draco was grateful for- he'd forgotten his sunglasses. Rich fabrics and countless hours of needlework, created the luxurious seats, which his father had handmade to please his every desire. The velvet material had but a stain, which wasn't a shock, considering that only the Malfoys were allowed to use the vehicle- exceptions included Draco Potter and the drivers that they Malfoys generously paid. Harry may have called a limo, but Lucius simply refused to have his son riding to a formal dance in a 'commoners' limo.

Outside, the streets were filled with cabs and other cars speeding by. Sidewalks were filled with pedestrians walking about, headed to and from different compartment stores. Above head, the sky filled with dark clouds, so dark that they almost looked more black than grey, that promised to downpour on London later in the day. Billboards were filled with bright words and colorful photos, each carefully modified to attract certain types of buyers. 

Harry and Draco made small talk, though nothing was overly personal- nothing scandalous needed to be printed on the front page of the journal. Although Dobby wouldn't mention a word to anyone, there were lots of people that had vendettas against Lucius Malfoy, the rich pinhead. People who'd stop at nothing to try and destroy the pristine Malfoy name. 

Black wrought iron gates, spiraling high above the limo, was the first sign that they were at the Malfoys' Manor. Moments later, servants were opening the gates, smiling at the group inside the limo. 

Narcissa Malfoy smiled at the moment the doors opened to reveal her son and his husband. Her hair, a snowy blonde color with dyed black roots, was perfectly curled, likely done by her hairdresser just merely a couple of hours ago. A raspberry colored dress flowed behind her when she walked, long enough to almost touch the pristine lawn. 

Lucius Malfoy maintained his rather distant, cold look, his eyes conveying his emotions instead. While his lips continued to remain in a frown, his eyes held a warmth that was unusual for him- a look that was used more frequently with his wife and son (well, occasionally with his son's husband). Dressed in a white tuxedo, his eyes scanned over his son and his son's husband, immediately tutting over Harry's clothing choices. "Pity. Here I was, thinking that perhaps you finally got a fashion sense."

Harry smirked. "And here I was, thinking the same thing about you." 

Narcissa smiled at her son-in-law. "Come on in. I'm sorry to tell you Harry, but I don't have a red carpet you can roll out for Draco." 

Harry just smiled at her. "Don't worry. I bought one today when I found out I was coming here." Harry opened the trunk, pulling out a red carpet. 

Draco just rolled his eyes, smiling. His husband was the best.


	2. Hülya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco has a beautiful dream that can never happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turkish Noun- a daydream that brings happiness.

Daydreams, each and every one of them, varied from person to person. Some daydreams oozed with happiness, while others were just random, funny things that weren't even possible. Daydreams weren't confined to a single space, they could occur anywhere, at any time. They were truly strange, a phenomenon that Draco couldn't truly pinpoint. 

Every dull moment of the boy's life was filled with daydreams, filled with things that couldn't never- should never- happen. While his father tried to teach him the importance of lordships and his duty as a future lord, he just daydreamed of a world where he could simply run freely through sunflower fields and smell the flowers. He even daydreamed that his father would take him into a muggle town and let him pick cherries, something he'd heard Blaise talk about when their parents were having balls and the children were forced to attend. Simple things like that filled Draco with a sense of longing, longing that he never got to participate in such mundane activities. 

Instead, it was expected of him to continue the Malfoy lineage once he turned of age- underage pregnancies were simply scandalous, even in the Wizarding World. Instead of picking cherries and smelling the flowers, he was instead expected to pick out a wife, or at least narrow down his options. Instead of running through flower fields, he was expected to take on the role of a stuck-up young Lord, one whom would one day have enough power to flip around the way the Ministry was run. 

He dreamed of worlds where he was simply an ordinary boy, a boy who'd never be mentioned twice. Instead of lordships and scandalous gossip that would destroy of the lives of those involved, he could have pets and a rather ordinary life. Although, in Draco's case, getting married to a fertile, beautiful, rich young woman was the most ordinary thing he could do- well, aside from having a heir with that woman. That life was simply not meant for him, the one that he was expected to lead. 

Woman were extremely beautiful, even Draco had enough sense to notice that. But Draco, despite seeing their beauty, just didn't feel anything more than friendship with any of them. Even the most beautiful woman, Draco still felt nothing. He could admire their aesthetic, but he simply didn't feel the urge to do anything physically intimate with them- something he didn't dare mention to his father. As if he needed to give his miserable, stuck-up father another reason to scold him and threaten to disown him. 

Even once Draco grew closer to the age where he was expecting to be married off, he still felt nothing for any of the females his parents introduced him to. All of them were boring and seemed to possess no personality whatsoever. All of them were stuck-up twits that were only interested in Draco for the Malfoy fortune or for the idea of the gaining more leverage and power. Simply none of them possessed a bone in their body that actually cared the slightest hint about him, except for potentially in a sexual aspect. 

Pansy Parkinson, Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, and Janet Parkinson (a cousin of Pansy's) were just a few of the many people his people introduced as potential spouses. And yet, none of them held any appeal to Draco. All of them were beautiful, but they just weren't for him. No matter what they said or did, he just wasn't attracted. 

Lucius got more irritable every time Draco failed to meet a girl that interested him. It was his son's job to produce at least one heir with a Pureblood lady, which was the least he could do, considering that everything was going to Draco. He was beginning to suspect that his son loved someone else, which would explain his son's odd behavior. Lucius could only hope that it wasn't the dumb Mudblood Granger or another useless Mudblood. All Lucius needed was for Draco to marry a useless Mudblood tramp, to disgrace the Malfoy name so greatly. 

Draco, meanwhile, continued to daydream of a life where it was his choice if and when he got married. In these daydreams, his father was supportive of the fact that Draco didn't want to get married, and Narcissa continued to teach him about gardening. Reality was a slap in the face, considering that his parents wouldn't support their son remaining single, much less a gardening habit. 

It was once he turned seventeen that he received the best daydream ever. It was simply blissful, and it filled his soul with joy. 

Draco stretched out on the bed, hearing the bed creak underneath him. He threw the crimson duvet off of him, before slowly draping his pale legs over the side of the bed. Immediately, his pale chest filled with goosebumps, which made him realize that he was without a shirt. His bare feet touched the color wood floor, making him feel even more cold. Without further thought, he got back into bed, covering himself back up with the crimson duvet. 

"Hey love. I made you a cuppa tea." Raven black hair stood in every direction, revealing a scar that looked like a lighting bolt on his forehead. His tan skin seemed to gleam under the light, making him look almost ethereal, like what Draco imagined an angel to look like. The heavenly white shirt he wore was tight enough to show all of his muscle, which made Draco stiffen a bit. Otherwise, he only wore a pair of flannel boxer shorts, which only added to the problem Draco had to face. Harry Potter was beautifully handsome, and he knew it. 

"Thanks sweetie." Draco smiled at him, accepting the warm cup of tea offered to him. Cautiously, he wrapped his fingers around the blue tea cup. He took a sip, wincing when the burning hot liquid began to slid down his throat. "Are Rosetta and Esmeralda ready to go to their grandparents' house?"

Rosetta was one of the cutest children Draco had ever seen, which was rather strange, considering that he didn't like children. They'd adopted her when she was around two years old, which had only been a year ago. With big chocolate eyes and curly brown hair, she was able to pout, and she even got Lucius to give into her antics- a man of no emotions. 

Esmeralda was two years old, with the widest brown eyes that the world had ever seen. Her chocolate brown hair stood in every direction, no matter what Draco tried to tame her hair. Often times, she gave her adopted fathers lopsided grins, which earned lots of cooing from Narcissa. 

"Of course. Our family is ready to collide with yours." Harry smiled at him, before walking over to the side of the bed. He kissed Draco's cheek, before turning and walking to exit the room. "Come along darling. Our family is waiting." 

He hurried along, before flooing to his parents' manor. He held Esmeralda, while Harry flooed to his parents with Rosetta- he was only allowed to after he mastered the Floo network. 

Both of his parents smiled proudly at him, their eyes gleaming with pride. 

"ENOUGH!" snapped Lucius, sneering at his son. "I'm arranging you a marriage contract with one of the Greengrass ladies."

Draco knew better than to argue, knowing what would happen if he did. Besides, he could live a fairly successful life with one of the Greengrass ladies, considering that she could be poisoned if she got too annoying. Besides, Draco couldn't really have that sort of life with Potter, considering that he was his rival and enemy. Draco could live with the happy daydream of them together though, in world that never existed. He realized that just maybe, maybe, he could have that life someday, the day his father died. Until then, it was simply a daydream that brought Draco great joy.


	3. Pisanthrophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a fear of relationships, especially once a beautiful blond enters his life and changes the way he sees the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noun- fear of trusting people due to past experiences with relationships gone bad.

"Uhm... I'm very busy." Harry continued going about organizing the files, ignoring the paper cut that he just received. His tan cheeks were filled with a rosy color, making him look so much more ethereal. With beautiful emerald green eyes, the ebony black hair, almost as dark as the night sky, was all he needed to make himself even more attractive. With dark, long eyelashes that nearly touched his cheek, he was what many individuals that desired men would want. In a white dress shirt that was fairly tight fitting, with a pair of black trousers that hugged his body properly, it was a wonder how Harry continued to remain single. 

"Oh... err, okay," said Draco. He slowly walked down to his desk and put his head in his hands. Strands of his perfectly styled snowy blond colored hair fell into his face, which he didn't bother moving. His molten silver eyes stared aimlessly around the office, seeing Pansy and Ginny walking. No longer did it matter that he dressed extra perfect for the day, with a nice green and grey tie, with a pressed new white shirt and tan trousers, for it had not worked to persuade the beauteous Harry Potter to even give him more than two minutes of his precious time. 

"Hey Draco. How'd flirting with Harry go?" Ginny's lips, which were coated in cheap scarlet lipstick, were pulled into a hateful smirk. Her eyes, a chocolate brown color, held the most smug, hateful look that Draco had ever seen. The ruby red shirt that she was wearing was simply scandalous, low enough to look like clothing Draco had seen at the strip club once- long story short, it had simply been Blaise's fault. A black skirt rose up every time she moved, which Draco didn't even notice. 

"Why's it any of your concern?" Draco turned away from her, looking interestedly at his calendar. The picture of a dog in scuba wear wasn't as interesting as it usually was, Draco noted immediately. 

"Oh honey," crooned Ginny sweetly, "I can't believe you. You really thought that Harry would be into you? Why would he downgrade from me to you?"

Draco's pale face filled with heat. "Excuse me? I think you need to go Miss Weasley." 

Ginny laughed, twirling a strand of her strawberry colored hair. "We simply had the most amazing, passionate, sensual relationship. We had the most blissful, pleasuring sex. Why the hell we he stoop to your level? You think you could ever give him what I could?" 

"Right. I remember what happened between the two of you now!" Draco smiled at her, which made her lose the smile. "You hurt him. Of course, I know! You had the most scandalous affair with best friend's boyfriend."

Ginny frowned, sneering at him. "Oi! Screw off." 

Draco sighed, realizing that he simply wasn't designed to be a part of Harry's life. That was rather apparently, considering that he had an evil ex, and he wasn't interested in Draco. Instead of showing how disappointed he was, he instead allowed his work to swallow him whole again. 

~

"I'd love to believe that he wouldn't hurt me. But 'Mione, it is not that simple." Harry looked up at his best friend, feeling her comfortingly rubbing his shoulder. "I just don't trust new people. Ginny told me that she loved me, and that she'd never let me down. Look at where that got me."

Hermione sighed, pinching her nose. This was the last conversation she had in mind when Harry said he needed to talk to her, especially considering she didn't really know what to do. He was her best friend, and he deserved to be loved by someone. But yet, he'd fallen head-over-heels for Ginny, which resulted with him distrusting people. Sure, it was only one relationship, but the damage was there. She stepped all over him, absolutely crushing him. Harry already had self-esteem issues, and the whole relationship between Harry and Ginny only brought out more issues than what it was worth- more self-esteem issues, more anxiety, self-doubt, lack of faith in people, and a phobia of trusting people. 

"Harry, I think you should give this guy a chance. I'm not you, and I can't pretend to be you. I've never experienced what happened with Ginny and you, and you didn't deserve that. I know that you think it's your fault that Ginny and you didn't work out, but it's not. You didn't force her to sleep with that other man, it was her choice. And I'm very glad that you didn't call her a slut or anything similar, it shows how proper you are. 

"You deserve someone that loves you, regardless of who they are. I don't care if you marry a plumber, a singer, a mechanic, an actor, an office worker, a doctor, or any other sort of profession. I just want to see you be happy, to see you smile again. It's been so long since I've seen you smile. 

"I mean, the guy dressed up extra special just in hopes of impressing you, like you did with Ginny. Interestingly, many bird species try to impress their future mate by brightening up their appearance. Anyways, it seems that he simply wanted to impress you. 

"And it's your choice Harry. It's entirely up to you, whether you give him a chance or whether you think he's not worth your time. And I know that you won't trust him right off, and I understand that. But you need to know that not every person is out to screw you over. Not everyone wants to hurt you.

"You're my best friend, and I love you. I love you, Harry James Potter. I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. I know that love doesn't exactly make everyone happy, but I think you just might be happy. I can't say I'm an expert on this sort of stuff, but don't waste your life away because of one bad thing that happened." Hermione hugged her best friend after she finished her speech. She really hoped she was right. 

~

"Oi Malfoy!" Draco could have fainted at seeing Harry standing there. His frame was leaning on the outer wall that formed the cubical Draco sat in. Emerald green eyes stared intensely into the molten silver eyes that were filled with unspoken questions. 

"Mr.Potter, I thought we settled everything last Friday," said Draco, his tone neutral. Despite wanting to move on and pretend that Harry didn't cause his pupils to dilate or his pulse to quicken, Draco simply couldn't do it. His fairly muscled chest was hidden by a royal purple color shirt, with white buttons that looked ready to be unbuttoned. The black trousers he wore gently hugged his lean legs, and Draco was trying not to let his eyes wander too far. Harry Potter was beautiful, and he was going to be the death of Draco if he kept it up. 

"I... I thought about it. Maybe I was a jerk- okay, I was. If you're still interested in me, which I'm not sure why you would be, uhm... I'd go out with you, on a date." Harry averted his eyes after he said such, almost like he was afraid of what Draco would say or do. 

And suddenly, once again, Draco was stunned by Harry's beauty. Lucious, pale pink lips were practically begging for Draco's kiss, which Draco would gladly do if Harry gave him permission. He gently bit his lip, which was apparently one of his nervous ticks, seemingly not noticing the fact that he was doing it. The rosy color that filled his cheeks reminded Draco of one of his mother's most beautiful porcelain dolls with a blush painted on their childish face- Harry was clearly the more beautiful of the two. 

Although he was physically attractive, he had a rather attractive personality as well. When Draco had first met him, he thought Harry an ordinary businessman that only cared about money, his girlfriend, and sex. On the contrary, he seemed to care more about his relationships with others than anything else, even more so than his paycheck. It'd been Harry's quiet, serene characteristics that had first lured Draco in. And Draco couldn't get out of his mind that Harry was everything he desired in a partner. Draco was nearly positive that Harry was his soulmate, and he wouldn't be sure unless he answered the beautiful man. 

"Of course I would darling. Will dinner tonight at The Three Broomsticks at around five o'clock work?" Draco was pleasantly surprised to see Harry's blush deepen. 

"Absolutely." Harry had no idea where this would led. But regardless, he had to have faith in the fact that Draco turned out to be as kind as he seemed. And trying to trust someone new was the only way to find out.


	4. Cynophile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has multiple dogs, which is expected since he’s a dog lover. Draco, well, hates dogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noun- a person who loves canines; a dog lover.

Draco had known that Harry loved dogs, he knew this before their first date. It was very easy to tell, considering that Harry frequently mentioned his love for dogs, it wasn't a dark, hidden secret of his. Although, Draco would feel a lot more at ease if a love for dogs was his dark secret, rather than whatever secrets he did manage to hide. 

The man in general managed to remind Draco of a the type of partner referred to as 'the dog partner'. The meaning was rather simple, despite the confusion that Draco first felt at hearing the term. This term simply meant that one's partner acted like a dog more than a cat or any other particular pet. A 'dog partner' was the type of partner that openly displayed love and affection, one that was nearly overwhelmed with joy when they heard one unlocking the door. Harry was also rather open with falling asleep with (or next to) Draco, snuggling right up next to him. 

To be rather honest, he was surprised that Harry was still into him. Draco was open with his distaste for animals, it wasn't something he tried to lie about. He simply found them messy and loud, much like he did children. Maybe it had something to do with his parents hatred for animals, but Draco just couldn't envision himself loving one of the flea bags. 

Pets were just something else to take care of, another bill to add to the pile, and another mouth to feed. It wasn't as though they could have a cup of tea with one at three in the morning when one felt down, they simply weren't that classy. They couldn't comfort one after a terrible nightmare, if they even noticed that one was having a nightmare in the first place- Draco wasn't sure if pets had the mental compatibility to do such human things. Pets chewed things because they were bored, whether it was one of their toys or a piece of furniture. It was simple, pets just weren't humans, and Draco rather disliked them. 

Every date so far had been at Draco's place, well, mansion really. Wrought iron gates with the sprawling green grass made the place look so much more... luxurious. The beige siding had buckled on the side, due to the sun's heat- Draco was getting it fixed, but everyone was seemingly busy. The windows glistened under the sun's rays, making them look as though they were portal to another dimension. A rather simple crème white door with a wreath on it was the entrance to one of the simple most divine houses in the town. 

Inside, everything looked rich, almost to the point that it felt foreign and wrong to so much as graze it. Everything was dust free, courtesy of Draco's maids- Pansy, Millicent, Daphne, and Astoria. Golden chandeliers, each costing anywhere from hundreds to thousands of dollars, illuminated the clean furniture. The fine furniture was dark in color, without so much as a dent or scratch upon the surface. But most importantly, there was no room for a dog or any other sort of pet upon the expensive leather couch. 

And tonight, Draco was expected to go to Harry's flat for a simple date, as Harry put it. 

Draco didn't know what to expect, nor was he sure that he wanted to know. The flat was likely overrun by dogs, considering that Harry was the sort of person that would say "no, bad dog". And the worse part was the inevitable amount of dog fur, which was likely to cover all of the surfaces. It was be gross and disgusting, to the point that Draco would have to leave and breakup with the man- he wasn't dealing with all of the fur. 

He sighed, preparing himself for the worst. 

~

"Hey honey," said Harry, opening the front door. "I'm glad to see you."

Harry's flat was nothing like Draco imagined, which was strange considering how many scenarios Draco created. A beautiful garden, full of flowers of all color varieties, bloomed perfectly without so much as a single spot. The red shutters, which had been freshly painted last week, matched the grey siding of the house. His shiny black car sat in the small driveway, glimmering under the slowly setting sun.

"Hi," said Draco, cautiously stepping into Harry's flat. 

"Please make yourself at home," said Harry, gesturing around with his arm. The smile he gave Draco was bright and adoring, laced with love.

Draco found Harry most attractive when he smiled, although he wasn't ever unattractive. With the jet black hair and big emerald green eyes, he looked much like what Draco subconsciously wished for in a partner. His tan skin bore a few harsh scars, obviously from a while back, but he simply never mentioned them, pretending as if they never existed. While he was rather skinny, he had a moderate amount of muscle- not too much though, he didn't look like on of those beefed up men on the front of a magazine. He was simply attractive, utterly alluring. 

And Draco loved things that captivated him, that managed to hold his interest. He'd been brought up to have anything he wanted, simply by mentioning it to his parents. If he wanted it, he got it on a silver platter the next morning. But Harry wasn't a simple plaything. 

Harry was a very intricate, beautiful person. Harry wasn't a possession to be owned, he'd made that clear upon Lucius's comment about being Draco's consort. He was very intelligent, but at the same time, he was also incredibly stupid- for example, he knew all about the solar system, but he couldn't tell when Draco was flirting with him. At times, he could come across as rather flirty, but he only did such when in private with Draco. He was just interesting, so much more than anyone his parents had tried to set him up with. 

It was then that Lucy chose that she would make an appearance. She was fifteen pounds, although she believed herself to be an enormous guard dog. Lucy looked like a big puff ball, which may or may not have had something to do with the fact that she was half Pomerania- it was believed she may have been part Poodle as well. She jumped on Draco's leg, yapping excitedly. 

"The hell?" Draco looked distastefully at the ball of fur, unable to help the sneer that worked itself on his face. He shook his leg, seeing the beastly creature run to Harry instead. 

"Oh, I forgot to introduce you. That's Lucy. Hedwig is in the living room, she's a poodle. And then Dobby's in the living room too!" Harry smiled proudly at Lucy, picking her up and kissing her head. 

"Can I ask where you came up with the ideas for these names?" Draco gently rubbed Lucy's head from where she was in Harry's arms, which caused her tail to wag. 

"Hedwig is a rescue dog. She came with her name, so I never found a reason to change it. As for Dobby, I asked my friend Ron for some names. I thought he said 'Dobby' rather than 'Bobby', and I just chose to roll with it. I was watching Doctor Who, and there was a character called Lucy Saxon. I thought about naming her River Song, but she seemed like a Lucy." Harry smiled amusedly up at Draco. 

Draco thought long and hard for a few seconds. Lucy wasn't such a terrible fiend, maybe the other dogs wouldn't be either. There wasn't hair all over the place, despite what Draco had originally believed there was going to be- he was glad for that, he didn't want to get dog hair on his rather expensive clothes. And seeing Harry smile brightly while talking about the little beasts made the idea of living with the little monsters tolerable. 

Perhaps maybe Draco could overlook the dog thing. Maybe they weren't such terrible creatures after all.


	5. Torpe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filipino Noun- a man who is desperately in love with a woman, but cannot admit his feelings or approach her.
> 
> Also, w|m in this chapter.

Draco was once again stunned when he saw her, his breath catching in his throat. He felt like the side character in a poorly written book, the character that pined longingly after the beautiful female protagonist that was loved by someone else. His pupils dilated, not that he could tell. His pulse began to pick up speed, which he didn't noticed- Draco didn't notice much. 

Harriet Potter was simply stunning, her beauty enough to freeze him in his tracks. Her emerald green eyes, which were framed by black eyeliner, were the most beautiful shade of green that Draco had ever seen. She was cursed with the gift of curves, which wasn't at all the reason that Draco was simply intrigued by her- in love with her to be rather honest. Her tan skin glimmered with sweat, which wasn't surprising, considering the fact that she'd been dancing for over three hours roughly. A pitch black one-piece bodysuit was tightly fit to her frame, the same item she'd wear to the dance recital next Friday. Ebony black hair was pulled into a neat bun, a few strands out of place. 

"Very good," said Narcissa Malfoy, the dance teacher- she was also Draco's mother. Underneath of her expensive dress, which was silver in color, was a corset- she was a noblewoman after all. Her face was extremely beautiful, the thin bit of makeup that coated her face helping to hide the fact that she was slowly starting to age. Her snowy blonde hair was pulled into a neat bun, making her look even more noble. Her lips, coated in a raspberry red color, were pressed in a thin line. "Run along, Miss Potter."

Draco was strongly ignoring his urges to run over to her and confess the fact that he was simply in love with her. Nevertheless, he simply couldn't do such a thing, something so... ridiculous. Something so mundane would earn him heaps of trouble, especially when considering Potter's rather... questionable reputation. Rumors, though most were simply the work of dramatic people, were enough to earn one the hatred of Lucius Malfoy. 

It was scandalous enough that Harriet Potter was raised by two men, two men who were married to each other- it didn't matter that they were in love or anything like that. Although, that simply wasn't the most scandalous part. It was believed that Harriet's father, James Potter, had a criminal record, although no one knew what he did. 

His father would have a fit if he even mentioned the possibility of Harriet being a large part of his future. His father wanted his son to marry a woman who had the perfect family, with a large fortune. It seemed almost impossible for Draco to mention his love for the beautiful lady without getting disowned. 

It was almost like a Romeo and Juliet situation, but it was so much more complicated. At least Juliet knew Romeo existed. 

In the story, Romeo had noticed the beauty of the thirteen year old virgin and fallen into what he believed was love. And Juliet, the thirteen year old virgin, had returned feelings for Romeo which she proclaimed was love- perhaps it might have had something to do with the fact she didn't love Paris, the elderly suitor her mother picked out for her. 

Romeo, out of what he believed was love, killed Tybalt, Juliet's uncle. Before Tybalt went down, he stabbed Romeo's best friend, Mercutio, who bleed to death while dramatically making jokes. For murdering Tybalt, Romeo was banished, as both the Montagues and the Capulets received warnings about fighting with each other. 

As to avoid a marriage to a man she disliked, Juliet faked her own death. The priest was unable to get word to Romeo, and after hearing Juliet was dead through his messenger, Romeo returned to Verona. He went to Juliet's grave, killed Paris, and upon seeing Juliet's dead body, committed suicide. 

Upon waking from her slumber, Juliet saw Romeo's dead body. And she took her own life with a dagger. That was how they were found. 

Draco sighed, realizing that he was pathetically desperate. He couldn't even bring himself to talk to her, much less confess his undying love to her. He'd seen her so many times, all of which he used to gawk and stare as though she were going to disappear right in front of him. 

He was a pathetic excuse of a man, that was for sure. 

-

Harriet turned around, smiling softly at Draco. "Hi."

Draco nearly forgot how to breath. He'd imagined himself in this situation so many times in his head, he'd memorized what he was doing to do and say. He planned on professing his undying love for her, to tell her that she was more beautiful than his mother's rose bushes. Everything was going to go together perfectly, without even so much as a hitch. She'd understand and tell him that she felt the same. They'd kiss, and everything would work itself into place. 

"Hey," said Draco awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. So that wasn't in the speech Draco's mind created. 

"Hey Harriet, I need your help!" A lanky redhead stood next to Harriet, looking at Draco as though he were a diseased rodent. Dressed in baggy, loose fitting clothing, it was obvious he was poor. "Come along, Fred is just dying to dance with you- a pleasure some will never have."

And Draco realized he'd never be able to tell Harriet he loved her. 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read a fanfic where Draco was a girl. I thought it'd be interesting to change it up.


	6. Hamartia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noun- a flaw that causes the downfall of a hero.

Everyone, in some way, shape, or form, has a weak spot. For some people, it is their family, the thought of losing their entire family enough to get them to back down. For others, it was losing their identity, to not know who they really are. Some individuals' weak spots are having a powerful, dark secret revealed, which could cause their world to spiral downwards. Of course, those are just a couple of the more generic, basic weak spots. But no matter how hard you try, you'll always have an Achilles's heel. 

In a similar sense, everyone is flawed. People just seem to be unable to help it, unable to find a way to not be flawed. There are liars, of course, that look you in the eyes and say, without wavering, that they are flawless. This is untrue, of course. Some flaws are more drastic than others, but that doesn't necessarily make a person evil or unworthy of gentle, soft hugs filled with love. No persons' flaws are exactly the same- they can be very similar, but not exactly the same. And people usually have multiple flaws, flaws that they don't even realize that they have. 

Some people consider skin blemishes a flaw, although it's more a physical flaw than one that leaves a mark upon the soul. Scarring, some people say, is another physical flaw- that doesn't make you good or bad, the scarring is just there, reminding you that you're not perfect. All the little imperfections that litters one's skin could be considered a flaw, but that doesn't hinder one's beauty, nor their ability to love another. 

Harry James Potter wasn't an exception to those rules, despite the fact that he was able to defy so many other rules. He had emotions and loved others, which is exactly where his flaw was born. 

As a child, he hadn't really experienced any form of love, not even an ounce of it. To the Dursleys, he was like flea, a parasite that would be better off dead. The detached way they spoke to him said enough, much less the way they could hit him without guilt. No demon needed to tempt them into mistreating Harry, for they thought up the idea of ruining the boy's life back when he arrived on the doorstep- or maybe the morning when Vernon went to get the milk and discovered the boy swaddled in blankets, but that's not what's important. 

But as a preteen, he met a friend who loved him deeply. He'd introduced himself Ronald Weasley, a poor redhead with too many siblings to count. Ron changed the way Harry's heart work, imprinting himself upon Harry's heart permanently. It was truly overwhelming for Harry at first, all of the sweet gestures that Ron did to show Harry how much he loved him. It was almost like their souls had been designed for each other, to become each other's best friends. It was a permanent friendship, one that would run deeper than anyone thought it would. 

The feelings was so powerful that it swept Harry off his feet. It caused the Savior of the Wizarding World to question what he thought was love, to question the treatment of the muggles that raised him. The feeling was so powerful, so deeply amazing that it seemed to rewrite his soul.

And Lord Voldemort knew it, if only because Lucius Malfoy constantly ran his mouth about how unnaturally close Harry and Ron were. The man didn't know what love felt like, nor did he want to, but he did understand the theory of love. He understood the basics of loving another person- the willingness to die for love, the unwavering loyalty, the passionate kisses shared in the rain, and the constant confessions of love. 

But Voldemort knew Harry didn't love Ron Weasley in a romantic way. That would not stop Harry from sacrificing himself for the said redhead, but Lord Voldemort decided early on that it would be much easier to get Harry to sacrifice himself for his romantic partner. There was always a chance that Ron could get a romantic partner that was willing to sacrifice themselves for him. 

It was then that Voldemort realized that he should look through the Death Eater's children. After all, many of them had children or grandchildren that could be a compatible love interest for Harry. And if those children knew what was good for them, they'd play along in loving Harry- even if they detested him greatly. Voldemort made a list and checked off reasons they weren't compatible or why they were.

Pansy Parkinson- Possibly compatible.   
Blaise Zabini-Possibly compatible.  
Theodore Nott- Not compatible, marriage contract already written.   
Alicia Carrow- Not compatible, insane.  
Adam Carrow- Not compatible, insane.  
Janet Carrow- Not compatible, only speaks Italian.  
Leonardo Carrow- Not compatible, only speaks Italian.   
Draco Malfoy- Possibly compatible.  
Floris Derocit- Not compatible, only speaks French.   
Rachelle Derocit- Not compatible, only speaks French.   
Anastasia Romiano-Not compatible, only speaks Romanian.  
Alexander Romiano- Not compatible, only speaks Romanian.  
Benjamin Franklin Clairston-Lestrange- Not compatible, blood traitor.  
Andrew Franklin- Not compatible, marriage contract with Katherine Avery.   
Hailey Avery- ? No one knows?   
Katherine Avery- Not compatible, marriage contract with Andrew Franklin.  
Kevin Avery- Not compatible, insane.  
Katelynn Avery- Not compatible, marriage contract with Annabeth Westfrost.   
Annabeth Westfrost- See above. 

Voldemort studied the list long and hard. There were limited possibilities, especially considering that there were around three compatible teenagers. He wasn't surprised, considering how young Pureblood children were forced into an arranged marriage. There was also the fact that many Pureblood families married their own cousins in hopes of keeping the line pure and free of tainting, which worked out terribly considering that the children turned out to be insane or a squib.

Voldemort didn't trust the Parkinson spawn not to screw up. She was much too arrogant and self-centered for someone like Harry Potter to love. The man doubted that Harry wanted to hear gossip about his other best friends- Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny- that was truly hateful. He also doubted that Potter wanted to hear about skirts, makeup, the latest fashion trends, who was marrying who, and the other things that Pansy was obsessed with. It wasn't that Pansy was particularly terrible, but she would be terrible for Harry.

Blaise Zabini was harder to place. His mother remained neutral, unless her lover at the time picked a side. Their loyalty bounced all over the place, and Lord Voldemort couldn't risk something this important. This was especially true, considering that he could make sure everything would work out perfectly. 

And Lucius Malfoy was only to pleased to have Draco play a large part in the war.

~

"Have either of you seen Draco?" Harry's appearance was a disaster. Ebony black hair stood in every direction, partially due to the harsh winds that caused his face to take on a pinkish hue. Smears of depressing grey, along with muddy browns, covered Harry's tan skin. His emerald green eyes looked distant, as if he was with Draco, wherever he was. 

"No," answered Ginny quickly, ducking a spell sent her way. Quickly, she sent back a spell of her own and heard the person on the receiving end yowling. "I haven't seen him. Sorry."

Luna shook her head, a sad smile resting upon her face. Even though she was normally pale, she looked much paler today. Although, it might not have helped that she was dressed in a dark midnight blue shirt with a matching skirt that had golden stars on it. "No. I think you should give up." 

Harry gave Luna a dark look, his nose scrunching. "That's mean. I loved Draco, I'm going to marry him."

They'd been dating for a three years, after Draco chose to rebel against his family. He'd changed so much that Harry couldn't help but fall head over heals in love, it was impossible to avoid. After all, Harry wasn't able to help his attraction to other seekers- he had a type. 

"Harry, you better go quickly. The Dark Lord has Draco," said a beautiful redhead. Her cherry red hair was pulled back into a neat braid, trailing to the middle of her back. Dressed in a flowing black cape with the usual Hogwarts uniform, it was easy to identify that she was a fellow Gryffindor. "He said he'll let him go if you give yourself-"

Harry had already run away from her, headed towards where he believed the Dark Lord would be. He nearly tripped on his own feet and somebody's body- this war wasn't going that superb, despite the useless encouragement that the teachers yelled. 

And Harry just kept running.

~

"You're very stupid, Potter," spat the Dark Lord, pacing. His ruby red eyes glared at the boy- no, man- in front of him, wishing to murder the man instantly. But first, he wanted to see how Potter reacted to betrayal. He wanted to see the spark drain out of his bright emerald green eyes. 

"Oh honey~" purred Draco, turning around in a spinning chair that Voldemort had bought for the event. "You couldn't possibly believe that I'd love you. I wouldn't ever be that desperate, and even if I was, I think I'd go without. But thank you for teaching me to be a good kisser, I'm sure the woman will be all over me."

"No, this isn't right," said Harry breathlessly. He couldn't- didn't want- to believe this was possible. Everything felt so off, this simply wasn't possible. He must have been dreaming, because this wasn't possible. It wasn't, right?

The entire situation felt wrong, as if his brain were twisting the situation to some sort of nightmarish reality. Harry had always suffered- well, more like since he turned thirteen- with vivid hallucinations. That must have been what was going on currently, he decided. None of this was real, he chose, but rather a twisted hallucination. 

"Oh honey," cooed Draco in a gentle tone. "This is absolutely perfect. I couldn't wait for this day to come. I got so sick of hearing about how your family treated you, you pathetic little baby. Maybe you should go running to your mummy for protection- oh wait!" 

This wasn't possible, it just didn't make sense. Draco would never do any of this, he just would. Why would he? He had no family that would support him, and even if he did, he'd never go back to them after the stuff they did. 

He'd let Harry kiss him so many times, it became like a daily ritual. They'd gone much further than that, was much further. There had been hickeys on both of their necks, hidden only by a thin scarf during the winter days- they weren't so risky during the warmer seasons. Harry had left Draco begging and moaning before, and Draco had scratched Harry's back as though he were a scratching post. They'd woken up together in the morning, cuddled up together, despite neither of them having any clothes on. They'd shown each other the most intimate things about each other, and practiced some truly intimate things together. 

"Any last words, Boy-Who-Wouldn't- Die?" crooned Voldemort, staring at Harry with his hollow eyes. He continued with his pacing, seeming not to care that it irritated Draco greatly- that was exactly why he was doing it. 

"I love you Draco. I love you so much. I always loved you, and I always will," said Harry finally. And those were, truly, Harry's last words.

A flash of bright, neon green light hit Harry straight in the chest. He fell to the floor, like an Angel falling from the Heavens. His body made a loud thudding noise, and he didn't so much as twitch. And a few seconds later, another wave of the neon green light hit his body. 

"Good job Draco. You did very good," said the Dark Lord blankly. It was rather obvious that he could have cared less, but Draco didn't seem to notice. 

"And now, all the women will love me. And I'll have a place in society," said Draco cheerfully. 

"Of course," said Voldemort darkly. "After all, a few more dead bodies are always nice. Would you like to buried with Potty or no?" 

"What?" cried Draco. "I've served you loyally for all this time! I still serve you, my Lord. Please, I'm still your servant." 

"Answer me," seethed Voldemort.

"I won't," said Draco, nearly sobbing. 

"Okay," said Voldemort. "I'll bury you with him. I can't risk it. No one talks about someone they hate like you. You loved him, and I can't risk you trying to get revenge." 

And Voldemort killed him too. 

It turned that Harry's flaw was loving Draco. And for that, Harry's downfall was born. But so wasn't Draco's downfall.


	7. Stigmatophile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noun- a person who loves tattoos and/or piercings.

"Well, if it isn't my dearest friend," said a familiar voice. 

Draco turned, smiling when he saw he saw Pansy standing there. It'd been a long time since they'd last seen each other, almost two years, if Draco remembered correctly. He never expected to see her again, much less in a muggle mall. He never expected her to come and sit next to him on the dirty bench in the middle of the mall, near a play area where small child drooled all over it. 

"Hello Pansy," said Draco in a rather warm tone. His lips quirked into a happy smile, which felt foreign- it'd been so long since he'd smiled. Dressed in a rather gloomy looking black suit, he looked as though he belonged at a funeral rather than a shopping mall. His snowy blond hair was neatly slicked back, although a few strands were out of place- things had greatly changed. With his naturally pale complexion and sharp facial features, he looked more similar to a corpse than he did an actual living, breathing person.

Pansy shifted next to him, her charcoal colored skirt moving as she did such. An emerald green shirt fit her upper body rather snuggly, but not snug enough that she had wrinkles or anything. A golden necklace with a daisy dangled around her throat, which was somehow fitting, despite how it shouldn't have went with her outfit whatsoever. Her dark hair was cut into a bob, which hadn't changed from when they went to Hogwarts together. She'd become so beautiful, almost to the point that she didn't look anything like the girl he'd known years ago. 

"How are you?" Draco asked her finally. He didn't know what to ask her, considering it'd been so long since they last talked. 

"Pretty good actually," said Pansy with a small smile. "I'm engaged right now, set to get married in October. How about you?" 

"Just fantastic," spat Draco bitterly, before giving Pansy a smile. He could not be rude to her because his life was falling apart, that wasn't her fault. "Uhm... I'm still single."

"Oh dear, you can't be serious!" Pansy gave Draco a scandalized look. "Oh, you are. That's absolutely terrible. I know plenty of single people that'd think you're a really treat!"

"Of course I'm a real treat," said Draco, holding a hand to his chest as if he were offend. "It is just that no one's hungry for a good snack." 

"Of course people are hungry for a good snack," said Pansy, shoving Draco's shoulder playfully. "It's just that you haven't meet the right one yet. Not everyone likes their snacks to be males. Take me for example." 

Draco looked at Pansy curiously. "You like females?" 

"No mate, I like sombreros! What do you think? Obviously," said Pansy tiredly. 

"Oh," said Draco. "Well, if it comforts you, I like guys."

"Ugh, not everything's about you," said Pansy in a fake whiny tone. "You won't even let me have my diva moments. You're a terrible friend!"

"The same could be said about you," retorted Draco with a wink. 

"Hello sweetie," said another familiar voice. Dressed in a tan tee-shirt with a pair of black shorts, stood a smiling woman. Tuffs of brown hair stood in every direction, looking like a q-tip that had been in the wind. Around her neck was a silver necklace, with a beautiful blue elephant on it. She'd changed a little bit, but not enough that she wasn't unrecognizable. 

"Hermione?" asked Draco in a disbelieving tone. 

"She was talking to me," said Pansy in a playful tone. "Stop flirting with my fiancée."

"Hello," said Hermione politely. "Have either of you seen Harry? He said he was going to get a new jacket, but you know how he is."

"I do," said Pansy. "He's probably blessed the rains in Africa or saved some old lady's cats."

"In a mall?" asked Draco with wide eyes. 

Harry Potter was the 'Impossible Boy,' sort of. He should be dead, but he just didn't die- at least not permanently. He seemed to be able to do things that he definitely shouldn't be able to, such as being seventeen and defeating a Dark Lord that had tormented hundreds of adults. He was also ridiculously attractive, so there was that. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise Draco to learn that Potter managed to bless the rains of Africa from a mall in the United Kingdom. Harry was strange in many ways, almost to the point of being eccentric. 

After the war was done, he up and left. No one knew where, nor were they sure why he left. Before he did up and disappear, he broke up with Ginny Weasley. Of course, there was an uproar after he left, most fearing that he'd turn dark or that he'd been forced into leaving. And Draco, despite his seemingly careless exterior, was slightly worried about the Gryffindor. 

"It was a joke," said Pansy. 

"Mhm," grunted Draco. 

"Oh, there he is," said Hermione, waving and summoning him from where she was standing. 

Harry sauntered over, as if he had but a care in the world. Dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans and a tight fitting black shirt, he looked awfully attractive- at least Draco thought so. Bright emerald green eyes seemed to twinkle brighter upon seeing Draco, as if he were the light of Harry's life. Perhaps Harry was excited to put their old rivalry to sleep and start something new. It wasn't as if Draco knew for sure, not truly. 

Upon closer inspection, Draco realized that Harry's arms were filled with the most beautiful tattoos. The tan skin of his arms was nearly completely hidden by the sleeves of tattoos. A beautiful red lily was the first tattoo that Draco noticed, every line and fine detail implanting itself into Draco's mind. A wispy blue stag moved slightly on his arm, likely because it was a wizard's tattoo- muggles saw the same tattoo, except it wasn't moving. A bubblegum pink and sky blue butterfly was placed right above his wrist, on the veins that could determine the life or death of a person. 

His left arm was filled with different tattoos. The most beautiful phoenix flew around on his arm, looking as free as a bird tattoo could be. There was a large black dog and a werewolf, situated next to each other, both of which could also moved slightly. Above his wrist was another tattoo, although it wasn't a picture. It was a name, written in cursive: Teddy Lupin. 

Draco swore under his breath. Damn it, he was hot, and the flashy bastard knew it. With the swagger and smile to turn Draco into a lovesick school boy, Harry definitely knew the power he held over those attracted to males- especially Draco. 

"Hello 'Mione," said Harry sweetly, smiling innocently at her. "Hello Pansy... and Draco Malfoy." 

"Hello Potter. Good to see you've changed!" exclaimed Draco hurriedly. 

"You too Malfoy. I can't stay for too long, but I thought I'd tell you before I left. I can't have what happened in the restaurant happen again. Once was bad enough," proclaimed Harry.

"My, my, a little bird's tells me you like guys with tattoos," whispered Pansy, nudging Draco.

"Perhaps I do," Draco whispered back harshly. 

"- gotta go. Bye everyone." Harry waved goodbye to the group. He walked over to Draco and handed him a small, folded up note before continuing to walk off. 

Draco opened the note and read it. 

Dearest Draco, 

I think you're attractive too. If you'd like, perhaps we could go to dinner some night? I'll leave you my number. 

Sincerely,   
Harry Potter 

Draco smiled to himself. Maybe he did have a thing for tattoos...


	8. Masturdating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, this isn’t sexual. No, there’s not smut. 
> 
> Noun- going out alone to a movie or restaurant.

Harry had never realized how many strange, odd looks he received when he went to dinner alone. Perhaps maybe it was because it'd been, well, years since he'd ever been on a dinner date alone. The last time he'd went to a restaurant alone had been when Ginny went out of town for a meeting- somewhere in Brazil, she'd simply left it at that. 

"Hullo. What can I get for you?" A fair skin woman stood at the side of Harry's table, smiling at him. Charcoal black hair was pulled into a neat bun, which helped to show off her oddly childish face. Her golden plaque read Cho, likely because her name was Cho. What else would it stand for, Cho Chow Soup? Cho, despite her childishly youthful face, looked older than Harry- it also might have helped that her eyes didn't look quite so young. 

"Hmm... a root beer with a Scrandy's Special Salad," said Harry, not bothering to look up from his menu. The glossy pages, filled with bright pictures of food that never came out that way and unique fonts meant to catch the eye, was a good place for Harry to stare as to avoid dealing with a waitress that would likely hit on him upon seeing his face. "Thanks." 

"No problem," said Cho, her voice holding a tone of disappointment. She was a simple waitress lady, in a restaurant in the middle of the mall. It figured that the one relatively attractive man that came to the place sorted her into the boring category before she even got to make an actual impression. Chances were that he was a psychopath anyways, considering the fact that he was eating alone- it was strange, no thirty year old in this town partook in dinner alone. 

Eating alone was almost like wearing a shiny badge that said, 'I'm the psychopath that murdered both of your parents'. It simply wasn't normal, at least not in the tiny town where everyone knew each other's darkest secrets. It was frowned upon, simply because it was abnormal. 

Harry wasn't an exception to those harsh glares. The elderly couple across from him gave him dirty looks when he looked away from them, despite them not knowing him at all. A little child pointed at him with a trembling finger, asking if he was okay, because people don't eat alone at restaurants- at least, not the normal ones. He could just feel all of the judgmental looks being sent his way from the other diners. 

"One root beer," said Cho flatly, placing Harry's drink down on the checker drink coaster. "Your dinner will be done soon." 

Harry looked up from where he'd been staring, she was already gone. She didn't give him time to thank her, but it might have been because she was on edge with him. He supposed it was reasonable, considering that he was eating alone, and he did look fairly intimidating. 

With dark emerald green eyes, filled with a darkness that had formed due to the harsh environment he'd grown up in, most people chose that was enough to turn him away. If that didn't turn them away, the dark stubble on his tan face did true miracles. The scars that littered his arms, all of different shapes and origins, tended to send people fleeing in the other direction- and those weren't even all the scars that littered his lithe frame. It took very close inspection to notice all of these things, so most people never noticed it- they only got creeped out by his intense stare. 

"Your meal, sir," said a man with a long drawl. He wasn't exactly very tall, although he wasn't the shortest man that Harry had ever seen. With a sharp jawline and a pointed nose, he looked like a rich aristocrat. Snowy blond hair was neatly slicked back, the smell of his expensive gel wafting into Harry's direction. He was frowning disappointedly at Harry, as if he had somehow offended him. Dressed in a black shirt and a pair of trousers, he looked oddly beautiful. His golden name tag read Draco. 

"Thank you," said Harry in a stiff tone, trying to gage the man. 

"Let me know if you need another drink," said Draco in an equally stiff tone. 

"What happened to the waitress?" asked Harry curiously, raising an eyebrow. 

"She requested to be moved to a different table," said Draco indifferently, as if he could have cared less. "So I was asking to take care of you."

"Mmm, I'm not surprised," said Harry nonchalantly. "I tend to do that to people. Perhaps I should work on my people skills." 

"Perhaps you should, sir." Draco gave him a small nod, his Adam's Apple bobbing slightly. "Do you need anything else, sir?" 

"No," said Harry gently, picking up his fork. He ignored the water spots on it. "Thank you for asking."

"No problem," said Draco, sniffing around distastefully. "Let me know if you need anything else."

The salad was made beautifully, Harry realized with a hint of satisfaction. A raspberry colored dressing was drizzled neatly over the perfect colored lettuce. Sprinkled with a few croutons and little red cherry tomatoes, it looked appetizing, considering that Harry wasn't extremely hungry. Very few onions were sprinkled as well, adding a nice amount of crunch to the salad, along with a distinct taste that Harry appreciated. 

About a half an hour later, Draco returned to the table, carrying the man's check and offering him a to-go drink and dessert. Harry politely declined both offers, saying how full he was, along with praising the cook's work. 

Harry opened the small, black leather bound book that Draco handed him. He scanned the receipt, cocking an eyebrow when he reads the price: £12.26. Although, he couldn't complain, considering that his taxes and drink were included. He pulled out his Hogwarts credit card, slipping it in the tab meant for checks. 

Draco came by and collected the the book. He returned ten minutes later, smiling and wishing for him to come back. 

Harry opened the book, slightly surprised to see a personal note on the receipt. 

Hey, if you'd like, I'm more than willing to give you people lessons. I'll leave my number, and we'll see where it leads. ;) 

-Draco Malfoy. 

Harry smirked when he was the man's number. Maybe eating alone wasn't so terrible after all...


	9. Ibrat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny wants to get Severus Snape a date, and Draco had flirting problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noun- an incident that teaches us a lesson.

Sixth Year

"Ugh. Snape sucks," said Ginny, throwing herself across a chair in the Gryffindor common room. Her dark red hair was neatly braided, likely with help from Lavender. Her freckled face was pale, her warm eyes filled with a bitter malice. 

"Are you just realizing this or...?" Harry was seated across from her, a thick book on Astronomy settled on his lap. 

Astronomy was something Harry was starting to find interesting. It wasn't something he'd ever pursue a career in, but he did find the Greek mythological stories about the stars beautiful. They were tragically beautiful, each story seemingly sadder than the last. The stars were so beautiful, each glowing brightly in the sky- Harry would sneak up to the Astronomy tower late at night to see them sometimes- more specifically every Friday at one in the morning. 

"He gave me a detention because he caught me kissing Luna in the hallway! The overgrown dungeon bat needs to get a damn social life or a romantic partner," said Ginny irritably. "Do you know if they have a column in the newspaper to advertise single people?" 

Harry shrugged. "No idea." 

"I know the description I'd put," Ginny said, smiling proudly. She'd clearly been thinking about it for a while, if the smile on her lips was anything to go by. 

"Please do tell," inquired Harry, obviously intrigued. He closed his book, leaning his elbows on the cover of the book. "I'm very curious." 

"Overgrown bat who likes to hide in the dungeon. He enjoys tormenting students that attend his class, save for the Slytherins. He's the Head if Slytherin house and a potions teacher at Hogwarts. From the state of his hair, one could infer that he takes showers once a year, if that. He likes to dress in all black and sneer at people. It's completely possible that he has a vampire kink. Preferred gender is unknown. If interested, please contact any student that isn't a Slytherin, and they'll be more than pleased to help him pack his bags. Any inquires can be sent directly to Ginny Weasley." Ginny smiled proudly. 

"You put a lot of thought into that," noted Harry.

"I want to get rid of him!" Ginny exclaimed. "I hate him. He's such a boring troll, I can't even stand him!" 

Harry hummed. "Then be glad you're not me. My breathing annoys him. I think that if he could, he'd strangle me and hang me by my toes." 

"He does seemed like the type to be a serial killer. Perhaps I should include that too! He also could be a serial killer and or has a serial killer kink. Thanks Harry!" Ginny smiled and stood up. "Maybe Luna will publish it in the Quibbler. Well, her father, but whatever." 

Harry just chuckled, smiling to himself. 

~

"I did a brilliant job Pansy. I caught Lynn and Emily getting a little to comfortable in the hallway nearest the kitchen." Draco puffed out his chest, smiling at Pansy. He fluttered his long snowy eyelashes at her, his bright silver eyes glimmering with pride. He wiped off his Prefects badge proudly, despite there being no reason for him to need to do such. 

"Yup. Great job," said Pansy flatly. She could have cared less, and her face showed such. She continued to finger a lock of her hair, trying her hardest not to frown. "But, you need to get those pesky Gryffindor runts in trouble. Big deal, you caught a Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw making out! We need to get that pesky Lavender girl, she called me a bitch earlier this week. And I don't know why!" 

"Perhaps the best way to get to her is to get her girlfriend in trouble," suggested Draco reasonably. 

"Well, how do you suggest we frame that Patil girl? Ugh, they irritate me sooooo much," whined Pansy, choosing to cling onto Draco's arm suddenly. 

"I'm sure," commented Draco calmly. He didn't know what to say after that, so he chose to remain silent. 

"Dray, I just hate those filthy Gryffindor lions. They're just so whiny and needy and bitchy. Why do we have to deal with them? Hogwarts should only allow good Purebloods, like you and I. That way, the breeding pool becomes so much less complicated." Pansy smiled at the idea. "Oh, that'd be brilliant. I could meet all of the different suitors that are interested in me! My parents would love that! 

"I'd know the men that deserved the right to screw me into next week and impregnate me. We could get the preparations ready for me to become pregnant, and perhaps during the final year we could finally participate in intercourse. That way, I could have more little Purebloods to carry on my bloodline. After graduating, I could be a mother, and my husband would work. He'd come home, and we'd do it all over again! Isn't that brilliant?"

"Pansy," said Draco with wide eyes, "that's horrifying. I mean, really? Why would you want that? Wouldn't you want to live a little first, before you have kids and get married?" 

"No foolish. Our parents taught us better than that. We are meant to carry on our bloodline, it's as simple as that." Pansy nodded proudly. "We should have as many kids as we can provide for." 

"But don't you want to raise them individually and love them dearly? Hold their hand as they walk for the first time and hear their first words?" Draco looked at Pansy with wide eyes. 

He knew her parents had been very strict about Pureblood ethnics, but this was a bit too much. Her statement was absolutely terrifying, and Draco pitied any of her future children. And her husband. With how emotionally distant she was, all of them would live a miserable life. 

"No. I'll have a maid or nanny for that," said Pansy with a dismissive hand gesture. "I'll just have the kids. I'm surely not raising them. I'm above that."

"That's disturbing as all hell," said Draco with wide eyes. "You should never have kids. Ever."

"Oh please," said Pansy with a wink. "It'll give my husband more chances to cherish me."

"Get away from me," spat Draco. "I want nothing to do with any of that. I refuse to be part of that. If you want to participate in the high Pureblood values and morals, I suggest you go to the school in Asia! They are the only remaining school where people would agree! I'm sure all the guys would be drooling over you."

"Are you that disgusted because I'm not... gay like you are?" Pansy asked with a sneer. 

"Of course not," said Draco disgustedly. "I'm bitchaphobic, which means that I dislike bitches. Remind me to give Lavender an award later, would you? I don't hate anyone because of their sexual preference, you useless stack of parchment! I know you do, but I don't!" 

~

Millicent stood next to Draco, giving him a gruff smile. "Good job Draco. Pansy's finally asked to be moved to a Wizarding boarding school in China. I can finally have my boyfriend over with her gawking at him and threatening to tell my parents." 

"That's lovely Milly," said Draco with a kind smile. "I know I act like a jerk most of the time, but if you really love that annoying Hufflepuff, I'll let him in the common room instead of locking him out. Also, how does he get in the girls' dormitory?"

Millicent smirked. "Oh pretty boy, I can't tell you everything." 

Draco groaned. "I was just curious. Wasn't like I was going to go blab to Snape." 

"I know you wouldn't," said Millicent earnestly. "You come to me for dating advice, because you're awful at flirting. 'Oh Saint Potter, please notice me and kiss me. Oh Potter, come over here and tell me I'm pretty'."

"Does he really say that?" Harry Potter asked with a smug grin. 

"All of the time," said Millicent. "So please, take him and kiss him into the oblivion after potion's class."

"Gladly," said Harry with a smirk. 

Draco flushed, before growling at Harry. "Tell anyone about it Potter, and you'll never get to call me your husband." 

"Sounds fair," said Harry. "Is that the Quibbler?" 

Indeed, it was. And on the front was a nice, long article on Severus Snape. 

Ever been interested in dating a man who doesn't bathe regularly, might be a vampire or a serial killer, hates every house except for Slytherin, teaches potions, has a potential vampire kink, dressed in all black, enjoys sneering at people, and hides in the dungeon like an overgrown bat? Well, you just might be in luck. Please meet the newest eligible bachelor, Mister Severus Snape of Hogwarts! All inquiries may be sent to students other than those in Slytherin. 

And so, there are two lessons to be learned. 

Number One: Never mess with Ginny Weasley, or else you'll be stuck getting letters asking about free times to go on dates in the middle of your potion's class. 

Number Two: The best way to start dating your future husband is to have your best friend proclaim your unending love for him after you get rid of someone they don't like by suggesting they attend schooling in China. 

Both were unrelated, but equally important.


	10. Discombobulated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genderbent!Drarry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adjective- emotionally confused or uncertain.

Draco cursed, ignoring the withering look sent her way by the man next to her. It was apparent that he was disapproved of her cursing, although she wasn't really in the mood to care what he thought- she never really cared what anyone thought anyways. As far as she was concerned, he could shove his problem with her cursing right up his arse. Although, knowing her luck, he'd probably turn out to be some important figure in her life- that was how her life seemed to work. 

His face was seemingly youthful, almost babyish in some manners. At some point, his olive skin had been perfect, tainted only by unusual tan lines. But now, it was almost impossible to imagine him like that, without the many scars that tainted his once perfect skin. Deep blue eyes seemed distant, even as he continued to give her a dark look. Dressed in the usual Hogwarts getup, she could tell he was a Ravenclaw- she was rather curious as to why he was already in his outfit. 

"Oi! Mind having some manners?" His voice was unusually thick, almost like he had an accent that wasn't one hundred percent 'the standard English accent'. It was very likely that he was Scottish, considering that he hadn't pulled out a Bible like the Irish were said to do. 

Draco gave him one of her sweetest smiles, telling him exactly where he could shove his manners. None of these things were exactly appropriate for a Pureblood, especially a female, to say, but Draco vaguely said something along the lines of, "Screw that. I'll do whatever I please." Besides, it wasn't like any man would be turned off because off her swearing, considering that no man was interested in her. It seemed that the Dark Mark was a very effective method of keeping men away, no matter how faded it got. 

"I'll find a seat elsewhere," said the Ravenclaw student, standing up slowly. His fingers wrapped around the plastic hand on his suitcase, which he then began to lightly tug on. "I'm sure that Harriet Potter doesn't curse this much." 

Draco was glad that he was out of the train compartment before he could hear the new, impressive string of curse words that she managed to put together. She hadn't even been on the train for a hour yet, and somehow, Harriet Potter was already being praised.

Harriet Potter simply infuriated Draco Malfoy to no end. Although, sometimes, frustrate was the more proper word, and it didn't always mean in an annoying sense. Draco found herself rather... flustered by the girl, more so than she'd like to admit. It confused and irritated Draco beyond belief, almost driving her insane at times. Draco realized that Potter very well could have been her breaking point. 

The first time Draco ever really noticed Potter's physical form was at the end of sixth year, despite how frequently Draco was... preoccupied with other things. Draco could remember the moment perfectly, the exact minute that Potter walked into the Great Hall on a seemingly normal Saturday. For Draco, it turned into something that wasn't normal, even under the strangest circumstances that Draco daydreamed about.

Raven black hair stuck up messily in every direction, which wasn't anywhere's near a cute messy. With thin rimmed black glasses, which looked well in need of replacement, she looked kind of nerdy- still not in an attractive manner. Her tan skin was a bit tanner, likely from the amount of Quidditch practice she'd fit in her schedule. A thin layer of black eyeliner framed her emerald green eyes, which made her eyes stand out- even with the glasses. Her frame was usually hidden by baggy clothing that looked like third generation hand-me-downs, which very well could have been the reason Draco hadn't really noticed her. 

Instead, she wore a pair of black skinny jeans- she was allowed to, considering that it was the weekend, and one could wear whatever they desired on the weekend. A grey wool sweater with pink, yellow, and blue lines replaced the normally baggy shirts she wore. Harriet wasn't exactly very busty, but Draco did notice that she had nice thighs. 

"Sorry 'bout that. Wrong cabin," said a boy, closing the door with a gentle click. Draco watched the chocolate haired boy skip away, realizing that she'd once again zoned out- that shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did. She really needed to stop zoning out, considering that she couldn't afford to let her grades slip. 

Draco lazily fingered her skirt, toying with the short emerald green fabric. Out of pure boredom, she stood up and grabbed her suitcase off of the luggage rack. She searched her bag until she found her mirror, which she immediately grabbed before sipping her bag. 

Molten silver eyes searched intensely in the mirror, almost like the mirror held the answers to everything. All of her snowy blonde hair was pulled into a very neat, fancy bun that her mother had given her merely hours earlier. Very faintly, Draco could see the highlighter that rested upon her sharp cheekbones. Lucious, pale bubblegum lips were coated in a thin layer of lipgloss, courtesy of Narcissa- she believed her daughter should look beyond perfect for her first day of her 'last' year at Hogwarts. Although Draco did notice that she was rather attractive, she couldn't help but feel that this just wasn't her.

It confused the hell out of her. She just didn't know who she really was, what she was supposed to do with herself, or even how she was supposed to feel. It almost felt that the girl- no, young woman- in the mirror wasn't her but a different woman entirely. 

The woman in the mirror was stunning, absolutely flawless. She was a regal noblewoman, capable of damaging the reputation of men that acted like scoundrels. Purely flawless was the woman in the mirror, a woman that earned respect because she was strong and independent. That woman wasn't her. 

Draco wasn't a flawless, stunning woman. She was the disgraceful Pureblood daughter of a Death Eater. She ruined her own reputation and the reputation of her mother, simply by running around with a Dark Mark on her arm- although, Draco wasn't responsible for that cursed tattoo being there. Draco was a flawed, cold woman that only gained respect because people feared her father and his rather large fortune- one word in his ear from his daughter was enough to ruin anyone's reputation. Draco wasn't really strong, considering that she wanted to run and snuggle with someone during a thunderstorm because she was scared. 

Everything was just so... wrong, and it wasn't helping that all of her thoughts eventually bounced back to a certain emerald eyed woman. None of this seemed right. Absolutely none of it. 

~

Sometimes, you're my only confident. Talking to another person makes me feel... strange, like they're only listening so they can judge me or have good blackmail on me. Hell, I hope no one ever finds this, considering the amount of sensitive information I've written in here. All I need is for someone to find this, much less tell everyone what they read in the diary of 'lonely, confused, misunderstood' Draco Malfoy. I don't need that attention. 

People piss me the hell off. They're loud, irritating, hateful- and worse, usually breathing. All I want is to be left alone, but they come over and bother you with stupidness. And then, they had the audacity to get all pissy when you tell them to go screw themselves. Like, if you don't want to be told off, you shouldn't bother me. People are also so damn fake that you can't tell what's real and fake with them. 

And there's that damn Potter. 

Ahh, she's attractive. Y'know, she's the first female I ever found attractive. My whole life was full of pretty women, but I didn't really find them... attractive. I never wanted to kiss one of them or tug down their skirt in my private quarters (or the other way around in both situations). 

And damn, I find it confusing. I've looked at a couple guys, and they weren't necessarily unattractive- they still weren't as attractive as Potter though. If I'm not heterosexual or a lesbian, what am I? A ferret? 

I've heard of bisexuality, and that sounds about right. It's not like I could ask about it at a Death Eater meeting. "Oi my Lord, can we talk about my sexuality? I think I might like the Girl-Who-Lived!"

It just doesn't work like that. Instead, I'm stuck on an awful, piss poor train that smells like sweat and old food, headed to Hogwarts for my eighth year- that's what the high-ups are calling the redo of the previous year. The seat as scratchy as hell. And I'm all alone, although I don't exactly mind- the people were too loud. To clarify, everything stinks, and everyone absolutely sucks. 

Anyways, I was talking about how special you were to me. I couldn't ever talk to anyone else about this, because they'd judge me. I really don't want to be judged any harsher than I am right now. And I fear that I'll wither and grow old, and you'll still be my only companion. Oh, that'd be terribly dreadful, even if I do hate majority of humanity. But I deserve the loneliness, if only for being a hateful bitch that sided with some terribly awful people. 

But you, I know you'll never leave. You were a special gift, as a matter of fact. Severus gave this to me, when I turned eleven. You were a birthday gift, wrapped in a simple black wrapping paper with a silk and green bow. You were a beautiful leather bound book, with an endless amount of pages due to a charm placed on you. My mother gave me a new quill-set, and I began writing in you. I never stopped. 

And that's okay. I have plenty of time to figure this all out- who I am, what my sexuality is (I have my theories, but I want to be sure), and all that jazz. Besides, I've heard that Harriet and Ginny are no longer together, as Ginny's dating Luna apparently, so I have a small chance of possibly being a compatible partner for Harriet. 

I think the train is starting to slow. I have to be done writing for right now. Wish me luck! 

Love,  
Draco Lucy Malfoy


	11. Apodyopsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also Genderbent!Drarry. I was on a roll when I wrote this last year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to explicit sexual content. 
> 
> Noun- act of mentally undressing someone.

From the time one is a child, one sees people on display. On the front of magazines sold nearly everywhere, one can see beautiful individuals dressed in the most luxurious clothing, posed in the most seductive poses just for the buyer. One can see heavy breasted women in tight fitting clothing, bending forward so that more of her bosom is visible. Men stand without their shirts on, posed with their muscles flexed, the most mischievous smile playing on their handsome faces. They're there to act as a simple charm, to make one convinced to buy the magazine in hopes of seeing more attractive, gorgeous people in an array of position, all of which are meant to please the audience. 

And then, they get tossed aside like trash from a fast moving vehicle on the interstate. Once they gain a visible stretch mark or some other sort of visible flaw, they're immediately discarded, replaced by a younger, new person. If they don't fade away from the attention of the media, they're fat-shamed, with the most cruel and vile nicknames to accompany that. So many negative articles come out that one feels as though they shouldn't pay any attention to the old model, but rather to the heavily breasted new girl who has the most beautiful smile or the even more muscled man with better hair. In a couple months, the new model will begin to fade, their beauty tainted in some way. 

Magazines issued from sex industries are no different. They glamour up their workers, putting them in overly sexualized outfits and lingerie. Those workers are ordered to pose in a variety of sexual poses, all to keep the industry's fan base now. The props used are too glamours, too ridiculous, but it's all for the same exact reason- to feed the sexual desire and want of their customers. Some industries even made videos or allowed the rich customers to have intimate cessions with their most fresh, pinned after individuals. 

"Blaise, what the hell is that?" Draco sneered at the simple black magazine with the words 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚝 𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 written on it in a bold shade of pink. 

"A gift," said Blaise in an innocent tone. Dark coffee colored eyes stared intensely at Draco, as if he'd be able to read her reaction like one reads a book. His tone was rather prideful, as if he knew that she was going to like the gift he'd gotten her. 

"What is it?" Draco questioned in a snotty tone, cocking one of her perfectly waxed blonde eyebrows. "What the hell did you buy me?" 

"A gift," repeated Blaise in a tone of fact annoyance. "You're a stuck up lesbian."

"And you're a horny bastard," murmured Draco loudly enough that Blaise heard her. Draco took a seat on the pure white couch, sighing as she did such. 

"See, we both have valid point," said Blaise, nudging Draco's side playfully. "And I know you haven't got laid since your breakup with Pansy. I got a little something so you could have a bit of fun." Blaise winked at her.

"Blaise, you're a horny pervert, just encase you didn't know," said Draco, rolling her eyes as she began to lay down on the couch. Her baby blue silk dress slid up her legs, showing off more of her pale skin. She crossed her legs, a habit that she'd formed when she was younger.

"Oh darling, you're telling me what I already know." Blaise shifted on the couch. "I'm gonna take my leave. I bought me one too. I'm going to have a good, good night." 

"Get the hell out of my home," said Draco, nearly kicking Blaise as he got off the couch. "You disgusting, horny bastard." 

Blaise grabbed his coat off the golden coatrack Draco had bought a while back and put it on before putting on his black dress shoes. "You're going to have a fun night too! Although, with those nails, maybe not." 

"I told you to take your leave," said Draco irritably. 

"Fine," said Blaise, opening her penthouse door and pulling it closed behind him. He lived just across the hall from her, so he'd probably be back over tomorrow, knowing that horny man. He dropped by at the most random, inconvenient times ever, although Draco guess it was a part of knowing each other for since they were learning to talk. 

Draco's fingers gripped the magazine, surprised to find that anything more than a name and a scanning label. She flipped to the first page, finding the words Harriet Potter written again. She was getting aggravated. If Blaise wanted to annoy her, he could have just stayed. What was the purpose of buying an annoying gift? And then she flipped to the second page. 

A beautiful woman was sitting on the white and black tiled floor. Her raven black hair was pulled into a ponytail by a bright blue ribbon, which looked ridiculous childish on her. Her eyes were the most bright, beautiful shade of emerald green that Draco had ever seen. A skimpy, lace white bra barely covered her breasts, which looked way too large to be real. Her stomach was much too thin, almost to the point that Draco would have been afraid to touch her had she been present. Tight white lace thongs barely covered her womanhood, but Draco guessed that was the purpose. The tan skin of her thighs had but a stretch mark, not even so much as an uneven tan. Her feet were angled away from the camera, hiding the soft skin of her foot. 

"How the hell does she have boobs like that and not break her spine?" muttered Draco questioningly. 

And Draco knew it was wrong, but she pictured the woman completely naked, which wasn't exactly hard considering how little clothing she did have on. Draco imagined unclasping Harriet's bra, letting it hit the floor. She imagined Harriet's thongs hitting the floor. 

She had such smooth looking tan skin, almost as smooth as a babies- given, it could have been photoshop, but still. Draco could only imagine how- no, it was time to stop write there. 

Draco closed the magazine and put it back on the table, but she couldn't stop herself from mentally undressing Harriet Potter. And those thoughts stayed with her for quite a while. 

Now, the industry will seemingly never end. It seems as though there will always be people on display on magazines fronts, just waiting to be picked up and obsessed over. It seems as though there will always be these magazines, with their main stars being called whores by society- a fact that will be seemingly forgotten when people are getting off to their photos.

And so the industry thrives.


	12. Yūgen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noun- a profound, mysterious sense of the beauty of the universe that triggers a deep emotional response.

Harry had just recently began to home a fascination for Astronomy. Before, he could have cared less about the sky, the moon, the sun, or the different galaxies although. He just never really cared for the topic much, believing his time would be better spent practicing defensive spells or something equally as important- not something as useless as studying the stars. 

The first night that he truly realized how truly beautiful the galaxy had been a Friday night. Early in the week, he'd grown extremely aggravated with both Hermione and Ron. They were lying to him, and it appeared that they had been doing such for quite some time. And that particular Friday, Ron gained enough nerve to call Harry a 'poor excuse of a friend'. 

And that had been enough for Harry to up and leave the dormitory. He ignored Hermione's frantic whispering about dangers lurking in the dark, choosing that her words would be encouragement to pick up his pace. He'd walked far away from them, as though they carried the plague. He'd just wandered slightly off course, and when he looked around, he was shocked to see he was standing in the Astronomy tower. 

His knuckles were unusually pale, gripping the railing ridiculously tight. He also realized that his body was trembling, his breathing was shaky at best- he was no where near being at a point one would consider 'best'. He didn't remember how exactly he'd ended up where he was standing. Was this his subconscious once again giving him the message that he shouldn't be alive? 

His gaze moved to the sky, almost as if expecting to see his parents' Angels descend from the Heavens and give him some one-on-one. That would be very helpful, considering that they might have some sort of advice that would set Harry back on the right path. They could give him a goodnight kiss like he wished he received as a small child, before floating back towards the Heavens. 

He then briefly pondered the fact that they might not even like him. Just because they were his parents didn't mean that they had to love him, nor did he want them to fake loving him out of some sort of parental duty. His parents might not be supportive of him being bisexual, nor his crush on a snowy-haired Slytherin. Both of his parents might not approve of Harry's personality, considering that he didn't have the best personality- not compared to the Weasley twins or Bill Weasley. 

Harry thought that he looked bland and generic, compared to many of the other individuals he'd seen before. With ebony black hair that was fairly long for a male, he looked like an younger version of his father- not that he knew that. Big emerald green eyes, framed by long eyelashes, always seemed filled with guilt and sadness, was a feature that he was proud of. A broken pair of glass, which should have been replaced years ago, rested on the tan skin of nose, surely didn't help his pathetic case. 

His eyes, which were bright with curiosity, moved towards the sky. It was so beautiful that he also didn't know what to do. Glowing a beautiful, pure white were some of the most brightest stars in the sky. The crescent moon glowed bright in the darkness of the galaxy, almost as if beckoning Harry towards the sky. The darkness, the space between where the stars danced and glimmered, almost seemed to spark. It was overly beautiful, Harry realized. 

Harry wanted to paint it out, so that he'd never forget. It was so beautiful, simply breathtaking, to be forgotten just because. Water paints would do alright, but he almost thought that he'd prefer acrylic paint, if only so that he had slightly more control with how the painting turned out. He thought that would be wonderfully stress relieving, as soon as he tuned out the voice that screamed out that he was doing it all wrong. 

He had none of the supplies to do that, as he was only allowed so much money. Art supplies weren't necessary for school, and Harry was much to shy to give a list of gifts he wanted to anyone. The Dursley's never even gave him gifts, so he had to appreciate the few gifts that kind individuals that pitied he gifted him. But he'd love some nice oil paints with a some unused canvas, but he simply had none. 

What if he died tomorrow? 

The answer was simple of course. 

There would a large funeral, which a variety of uniquely colored flowers for his grave. A speech composed of many fancy words would be read by either an overly emotional person or a person with no emotion whatsoever. People would mourn him and cry for their dead savior, whether they knew him or not, as they had to face a war without their main soldier who would willingly do anything to protect those said people. They would then take his corpse and bury him in the Earth's surface, alongside his mother and father. 

Those people would move on- get married, have a couple kids, almost get a divorce, and die in the war before they could do anything else. It wasn't a life Harry wanted, but it was still more promising than the life he was currently leading. They might even survive the said war and have a couple more kids. They could live and see their children go to Hogwarts and cry while reading their child's first letter home. Maybe that fate wasn't so terrible, having kids and settling down somewhere warm with someone you love. 

"Potter, are you crying?" The voice that asked the question was very nasally and bitter sounding, as though the person who was asking had a terrible cold and was rather pissy about that fact. Unfortunately for Harry, it was just the perfect little prefect, Draco Malfoy, who looked way too smug to be ill. 

"I... I am," said Harry in a dumbfounded voice. He didn't even care that he had just given Malfoy blackmail information, it just felt good to be a little truthful about something. Maybe he didn't know why he was crying, but that didn't matter to him. 

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor," said Malfoy in a snarky tone, giving Harry a wicked smile. "And another five for every minute that you aren't back in your common room." 

"Y'know, maybe you should pull that stick out of your damn arse and just chill for five seconds. I'll leave you and your precious hair gel alone on your date," said Harry in a snappy. 

"Oh Saint Potter," said Draco in a mocking tone, "Please stay and pleasure me." 

"Mmm, sure," said Harry. "You have protection or...?" 

Draco's pale cheeks filled with a cherry red blush, his eyes widening slightly. "Potter..." Draco's voice wavered slightly, his cracking ever so lightly. "You didn't say no. Do... do you like me back or would you just want to be enemies with sexual benefits?" 

"I'm thinking, and I think saying Draco Malfoy is my boyfriend sounds nice." Harry smiled at Draco. "I like the way your name rolls off my tongue." 

"Finally," said Draco, stepping closer to Harry and pulling him into a rough kiss. 

Their lips collided, their arms moving to pull each other closer in a desperate attempt for more friction between the two. Their tongues continued to collide, crashing against each other like the waves. It was a frantic, desperate kiss that was filled with need and longing, perhaps for each other or a loving, romantic partner. 

And the universe continued to expand.


	13. Jayus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noun- a joke so unfunny and poorly told that you can't help but laugh.

"We're dating now Father," said Draco Malfoy. He looked rather pissy, as if he'd rather be anywhere but where he was. His voice was strained, as if every word that tumbled out pained him greatly.

Given, this was very true. He hated his father with every once of his being, just because his father was an enormous arse. A gigantic prick, if Draco was blunt. It was common knowledge that his father hated Half-bloods and muggleborns, probably more than hated the average muggle. His father made his views very obvious- they were printed on the front of magazines, written in countless books, carved into his arm in the shape of a tattoo that meant much more, and various other things. 

His father just wanted everything to be normal- well, as normal as they could be. He wanted his family to fit this perfect image that he created, and he tried his hardest to mold his family into that image. He didn't care that he hurt his family in doing such, only caring that the public saw him smiling with the perfectly pure family. It didn't matter that Narcissa almost died giving birth to Draco, it only mattered that she wouldn't be able to have another child- Lucius always imagined having at least two children, preferably one girl and one boy. It didn't matter that Draco wanted to learn how to play the violin, it only mattered that his son could fly and perform spells at a young age. His family didn't matter. 

Harry stared into Lucius's eyes, his hard gaze never wavering. His emerald green eyes were so dark that they almost looked black- that would have been very bad for several reasons. Harry's light pink lips were pursed into a thin, disapproving frown. It was obvious what Harry thought of the entire situation, and it was clear that he didn't care if everyone knew how he felt. He was hardly blinking at all, as if he were afraid that he wouldn't catch on of Lucius's sly movements. 

"Ahahaha!" Lucius threw his head back. "Hahaha! Now, that's absolutely hilarious. And here I was, thinking one couldn't get a good joke in Azkaban."

Azkaban was so dark and gloomy that Lucius almost forgot the concept of happiness altogether. Everyone was grey and black in color, white an ounce of a bright color. The sun's bright rays never touched the island that Azkaban was on, much less entered the cell that Lucius was staying in. Everything was covered in a dark colored substance, which only gave the place more gloomy feels, although he was sure that the floor wouldn't be neon pink if it was properly cleaned. 

Draco cleared his throat, his Adam's Apple bobbing. His gaze wandered over to where Harry was holding his hand before returning to his father's face. "No Father, I'm not joking." 

"Of course you are," growled Lucius in a threatening manner. His eyes took on a warning look. "Moral corruption doesn't exist in the Malfoys."

"Hmm..." pondered Harry aloud, "Then who are you? Lucius Grey? Lucius Smith?"

"Shut up halfbreed," snarled Lucius, throwing himself into the bars of his prison cell. He reached his arm out, his dirty nails nearly scratching Harry's face. 

"Your father's went feral," said Harry softly, looking at Draco with reassuring eyes. His eyes said something along the lines of, I'm sorry this is happening to you darling. Later, we can go home and cuddle. If you need to, you can cry in my chest while I hold you close to me and whisper comforting words in your ear. 

"No kidding," said Draco, a disgusted look on his face. He looked as though he'd bitten into a lemon- with his nose scrunched up and his eyes holding a harsh look, it was hard to say that's not what he looked like.

"How dare you assume I've went feral?" snarled Lucius, breathing heavily. He reached out again, trying once again to scratch Harry's face. 

"Hmm... you're right!" Harry gave Lucius a smile that off threw Lucius greatly. "Trying to scratch out a person's eyes or their face is one hundred percent normal. Just another reminder of how perfectly ordinary you are, Mister." 

Lucius began to laugh again, harder than he planned on laughing. "This is so ridiculous that it's funny. Not really, but it definitely is, considering that I know this is a terrible joke." 

"It's not father," said Draco, before turning to Harry. "Are you ready to go?" 

"Yes, my dragon, I have never been more ready to go," said Harry in a gentle tone, before shooting Lucius a dark, withering look. "By the way, we might want to call the mental hospital." 

There was a mental hospital not far from where Harry and Draco lived in central London. The outside was a pristine white color, with a large black iron wrought gate surrounding the whole premises. A beautiful tree grew in the middle of the long, providing shade to the residents when they were allowed outside. There was a bright arrange of flowers and bushes that formed the small garden, which could use more attention from the staff. 

"Why's that?" asked Draco in a curious tone. 

"I think they've lost one of their patients," said Harry, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist as they left. 

And Draco laughed, while Lucius Malfoy began to scream at the top of his lungs about disgraceful sons and having that disgraceful son come and take him far from Azkaban.


	14. Eccedentesiast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of character? Yes!
> 
> Do I care? Maybe.
> 
> Hotel? Trivago. 
> 
> Noun- someone who hides pain behind a smile.

Smiling is considered a sign of joy and happiness by many people. A smile is a sign that one is in a good mood or that something really amazing has happened to a person. A smile could also be friendly or welcoming, like one would give a person they've never met before. Smiling people are seemingly deemed as much prettier than those that don't smile— it seemed society had a thing for smiling people. 

People are extremely gullible. Some people think that they're incredibly clever and perhaps they are. However, if one smiles at another individual, they're seen as happy and joyous. As long as one gives a seemingly real smile, everyone just writes that person off as happy. 

However, anyone can smile. Smiles don't have the ability to keep themselves off the faces of dangerous or sad people. Murderers can still smile at the girl boarding the train, even if they just slaughtered a man in cold blood the previous night. The man who lied to the detectives investigating the disappearance of a small child gave them a warm smile as they left his house, despite him knowing fully well where that little child is. The lady who won't wake up tomorrow smiled at the butcher, seemingly fine. People don't even care, as long as the other individual smiles. 

Smiling has somehow become associated with innocence. And for that, humanity tricked itself greatly. 

~

"Hey, you dropped this." Harry gave Blaise a bright smile, showing off his slightly crooked teeth. Dressed in his regular school clothing, he looked like he did every other day. Dark charcoal colored hair fell over his scar and the tan skin of his forehead, which Blaise thought could have used a bit of fixing. With his big smile and slightly ruffled clothing, Blaise thought Harry was actually pretty attractive.

"Thanks Potty." Pansy gave Harry a pouty look, her eyes holding a hateful glare. Her lips them curled in a hateful snarl, making her face look more pug-like than usual. "Next time, I can get it for my little Blaise baby. We don't want your filthy germs on anything! Go pick up something else, like your mother's dead corpse or some ugly roses to place on the mudblood's grave."

Harry's smile only grew. "You know Miss Parkinson, I think that's a brilliant idea. I'll buy roses." Harry turned to walk away. "Oh, and Miss Parkinson?"

"Yes, you filthy halfbreed creature," said Pansy in a rude tone. She continued to give him the most withering look, as if she kept looking at him like that for long enough that he'd drop on the floor. 

"I suggest that you pick up your... toy." Harry chuckled. "After all, we wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea about what you do with that."

She stood, looking flabbergasted. A pinkish hue filled her cheeks, which then turned into an ugly shade of cherry red. "Screw you Potter." 

Harry smirked, which was one of the first times he did such. It felt foreign on his face, instead of the usual smile that he forced on his face. "You wish darling."

"I..." Pansy swore under her breathe, cursing out both Harry and his parents existence. She even used a new word that Harry had never heard before, but from Blaise's reaction, he gathered all he needed to about that particular word. "Run along, you inbred creature. Go cry on your inbred bitch of a mother's grave, Potty."

"I'll keep that in mind." Harry gave her a smile. 

Instead of going to Snape's class, he went into the abandoned girls' bathroom. 

~

"...is amazing." Pansy continued to babble, giving Draco a wink multiple times. Her voice was one of the most annoying sounds that Draco had ever heard, even more so than the sound of the Weasley's constant breathing. "And that Potter, never even showing up for potions. What a prude!" 

"What?" asked Blaise confusedly, cocking his head to the side like a lost little puppy. 

"I mean, he's so extra. Like, really?" Pansy rolled her eyes. "He's a damn brat, that's all. He could fall down the stairs, and literally no one would care. I'd probably laugh and throw a party." 

Draco bit back the bitter remark that was on his tongue- I'd do the same thing if you took a great fall of a building, you useless pug. The bitter, vile words were scalding his tongue, like tea, and he wanted nothing more than to repeat those hateful words to her. It took all of his self-restraint not to scream at her; his entire body itching out to push her somewhere and keep moving, almost like what serial killers did to their victims. 

How did one go about even commenting on that? Ah yes, you're right. Let's have some pastries and sip some honey tea while laughing about Potter's death. It was pointless to ponder over, but it caused Draco's mood to darken, like the sky did before a northern downpour appeared. 

It wasn't only because Draco had the largest crush on Potter; it was living, undeniable humanity and softness that flowed throughout Draco's mind like his blood did that caused that reaction. Draco might have pushed and shoved, but he never wanted things to go to the extent they did- before long, it was all unstoppable. It was like a snowball, with each little thing making the first problem this monster that no one wanted to face. And it was all too much for Draco to handle alone. 

"What the actual hell?" asked Blaise with a disturbed look. "That's just sick. I'm gonna go hang out with Millie."

"Go hang out with the tra-" 

"Pansy, shut the hell up," said Draco with a sneer. "I'm leaving. Go act like that with someone else." 

"But Dray, you love me, so you forgive me," said Pansy, clutching onto Draco's arm.

"Go away," snapped Draco irritably. He brushed her arm off, walking far away her. Draco just continued to walk far away, smiling as he did such.

He knew where he'd go: the girl lavatory. Why? It was simply because it was the only place that one could be truly alone- save for Myrtle. 

And Draco saw the famous Harry Potter, one of the most beautiful people he'd ever seen, curled up against the sink, crying. He had his knees pulled to his chest, and his arms were pulled to around his legs, as if he were afraid of being ripped apart. 

It was then Draco realized what needed to be done. Draco Malfoy neared his crush and wrapped his arms around him. 

And so, Harry Potter, the eccedentesiast, gained someone he could trust with his pain- his future husband, Draco Malfoy.


	15. Absquatulate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Verb- to leave without saying goodbye.

The party life was often one of the most disapproved lifestyles. There were several reasons as to why, most of them revolving around of the idea of wasting away life, drinking way too much, having sex with people you wouldn't remember, and leading yourself down a path where just partying wasn't enough. 

Huge mansions, owned by rich businessmen and political figures, were home to some of the largest parties. No one knew of the scandalous parties, the ones where the underage kids drank until they collapsed. No party guest could remember the name of the person they had shared an intimate night with, nor could they remember the amount of drinks they had. And in the end, they did it again. 

The perfect middle class family's underage son threw a party while his parents were away, inviting over all of his underage buddies. Alcohol was passed around like a collection bucket was at church. Teenagers gave into the desires of their lust, ignoring the morals that their parents tried to instill in them. Time passed in blurs, everything overlapping. By the morning, not a soul could remember what happened the night previous. It wasn't only the middle class family's son that threw parties, any teenager could throw a party when their parents went out of town. 

Draco Malfoy wasn't the exception. He no longer lived with his parents, who had thrown grand parties at least once a month, but he still loved the party life. He'd become addicted to that life, to the life of partying. He couldn't get enough of the partying. He just couldn't stop.

He loved the partying, the way the alcohol burned the back of his throat. He loved waking up in another person's bed, regardless of whether it was that of a male or female- he never remembered waking up in the bed of someone who identified as neither. He loved the loud thrum of the music played by the DJ, given that he was sober- loud noises hurt when he was hungover. He was simply addicted to the party life. 

His boyfriend, Harry, disapproved of partying in general. He simply disagreed with the whole notions of parties altogether. It was also worth mentioning that Harry refused to so much as drink the tiniest bit of alcohol- he just found no purpose in drinking any. Harry said that partying was just a bad coping mechanism that only led to worse things.

Twenty five years ago, James Potter, was driving home with Lily and their one year old son- Harry James Potter. Darkness enveloped them, fought off only by the bright headlights of James's car. The narrow road that led to the smaller groups of backroads, which eventually led the Potter Cottage was always dangerous to drive on- especially during the night. A shrill scream from Lily came too late, too late for James to pull out of the way of a drunk driver. Both Lily and James died, while their son Harry survived only with a lightening shaped scar. 

Draco just shrugged off Harry's warnings and continued to go out and party. He'd drink too much, stumble around, and wake up in someone's bed without any clothes on. He'd allow himself to sober up, go home, try to recall what happened the night previous, and call Harry to ask if he'd like to eat dinner at a fancy restaurant. 

Draco wouldn't consider the stories he told Harry as lies, but rather what happened in his mind, where everything was perfect. "Of course I went to Pansy's house. We shared a bottle of wine, talked about our days at Hogwarts Academy, had a splendid dinner over another bottle of wine, and sat on her patio. And then, I left." 

What this story failed to mention was practically everything that happened that wasn't perfect. It was a well crafted lie, leaving everything negative that happened out. "Of course I went to Pansy's house, she was having a party! We shared a bottle of beer while playing strip poker, talked about the sexually scandalous stuff we got up to in Hogwarts Academy, had more beer while we nibbled on snacks, and we went to her bedroom to finish what we started back in the Academy. And then, I passed out in her bed, naked next to her." 

Harry only ever heard the first version of the story, of course. If Draco were to tell him what really happened, Harry would be gone in an instant. So Draco made sure to carefully conceal his party clothes and hickeys left by someone equally as drunk as Draco had been at the party, as to never let Harry know what really happened. 

And so, Draco continued to party. 

~

It was December twenty-third, and Draco was having a party at his mansion. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the champagne of the guests sparkling under the lighting. The previously well scrubbed floors, which almost seemed to shine under the lights, were now filled with footprints and spilled champagne. The ballroom walls, painted a gentle lilac color, were now hidden behind several individuals who were leaning against the wall.

The people at the party were rich, wild and unpredictable. A lady in a frilly dress leaned against the hallway outside the hallway, while a man in a shiny mask continued to rake his hands farther up his thighs. A businessman in a black suit had fallen over in the middle of the dance floor, while his wife continued to drink her champagne. A lady dressed in a beautiful tan dress continued to dance with her wife, who was dressed in a beautiful crimson cocktail dress. The politician's husband performed some rather devious things with two of the party guests in the back of his husband's limo, while his said husband ate a couple snacks and continued to search for his husband in the crowd of people. A woman and her husbands chatted in the corner of the room, judging people silently. Everyone was every different, especially in the party scene.

Draco Malfoy looked beautiful. Dressed in a grey suit with a silver and green tie, he looked similar to how he did back at the Academy. Platinum blond hair was jelled back, not so much as a strand out of the way. The lighting only seemed to make his cheekbones more sharp than usual, which very well could have been partially due to the fact he was wearing highlighter. His normally pale face was flushed, likely because of how drunk he was- the fact that Pansy wasn't trying to hide the fact that she wanted to have sex with him truly wasn't helping. Topped off with a beautiful golden watch that Harry had bought him, Draco looked rather ravishing. Standing in the middle of the ballroom floor, he seemed to fit in perfectly.

"Come on Dray, you know you want to," said Pansy, barely managing not to slur that simple phrase. The rose pink dress that she wore clung to her skin, showing off her beautifully curved body. A pair of white gloves went to her elbows, giving her more of the princess look that she was originally hoping for. Her hair was neatly curled, going down to her shoulders. Her kissable lips were coated in a rosy pink lipstick, her eyeshadow nearly the same color. 

"Maybe, b-but... but you should kiss me. Kissssss me good, w-would you? My... my lips are sooooo lonely," said Draco, unable to help the fact that his language was slightly slurred. He could handle his alcohol well, but even Draco had his limit- which he'd definitely pushed too far. 

Pansy wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, tilting her head to the side. Draco's eyelid fluttered, during which his hands possessively wrapped around Pansy's waist. Pansy leaned into Draco, placing her lips on his. Her lipstick smudged against Draco's lips, imprinting proof of her kiss upon him for everyone to see- save for the blind gentleman with a walking stick. 

"Draco," said the most heartbroken sounding voice ever. "How could you?" 

Draco turned, pulling himself off of Pansy. He let go out her waist, ignoring her confused looks. He'd known one day the truth would prevail, but he'd planned on making it so that the truth would be good. So that the truth didn't destroy both of them. 

Harry was standing there, a tear falling down his tan face. He had the most troubled look, almost as if he'd known but didn't want to believe it. His hands were trembling, causing him to almost drop the box of chocolates he was holding. Dressed in a beautiful black suit, he looked devilishly handsome, even if he was beginning to cry. 

"Harry..." called Draco weakly. But Draco knew what was going to happen. 

Harry had never tried to hide what he thought of those who committed adultery.Harry knew that it was more than just kissing, simply because he'd been standing there long enough to have heard majority of their conversation. Harry was going to leave, for good. He thought that adulterers were the worst, considering that Harry's first ex was also a cheater. He thought that they were dirty and vile, never thinking about those that they hurt. It stood against everything that Harry stood for. 

Harry turned and left on the spot. He got in his car and drove far away. 

Draco stared at the doorway, unable to help the tears that ran down his face. He ignored the lady and her husbands whispering in the corner. He ignored the ladies that stopped dancing on the dance floor, heading out for the night to never return to Draco's mansion. He even ignored Pansy, who was looking as if the angel Gabriel had come down and told her she was pregnant with the next Savior. Draco just continued to stare numbly at the door, unable to believe it.

Harry had left without so much as a goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya everyone. This is the author (wow, that feels weird to say) of this odd assortment of one-shots based on cool, pretty words I found. I just wanted to thank everyone for reading this, especially those of you who voted and commented. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. 
> 
> But mainly, thanks for reading. 
> 
> Until next time,  
> @Sassyandsarcastic15


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